


Location, Location, Location

by Medicalnonsense



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Bad Coffee, Chicago - Freeform, Fans, M/M, May 10 2011, Waffle House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-05
Updated: 2012-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-28 23:54:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medicalnonsense/pseuds/Medicalnonsense
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A midnight visit to a Waffle House with Till and Flake.  Inspired by the poem of the same name by Gabriel Gadfly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Location, Location, Location

The room was dark, save for a small light attached to the book Till had in hand. Richard was already fast asleep across the room, buried beneath three extra pillows and another blanket on top of what was provided. The (relative) silence of the room was broken by a brief, but powerful growl. Till sighed and rubbed his stomach. The concert tonight had ended earlier than usual and none of them were really feeling the after party save for Schneider and Olli who had chosen to stay there. Truthfully, Till felt bad that they hadn't done anything for Schneider's birthday that night, but it seemed none of them were feeling particularly festive. Needless to say, Till, Flake, Richard and Paul all ended up back at the hotel, the beginning two neglecting to eat as per usual.  
Sitting up in bed (still wearing the same clothes he had come back to the hotel in), Till turned off his book light, pulling out his cell phone.  


"Hungry?" he texted Flake.  


"Not really." the other man responded not long after.  


"Too bad, you're coming with me."  


"Over whose dead body?" Till stared at the text for a moment and stood, pulled on a pair of shoes, quietly leaving the room to head to the one Flake and Paul were currently sharing. Using the spare keycard, he pushed the door open to see Flake already dressed and waiting for him. "I realize I don't really have much of a choice." Till smiled to him.  


"We haven't had any time alone in the past few months anyway."  


"Mmn." Flake grunted with a look of disinterest, shrugging. Rolling his eyes, Till took Flake's hand and tugged him through the doorframe into the hall. "If you're hungry where are we going?" he asked as they began to walk towards the elevator.  


"What's open in America at this time?"  


"Fuck if I know." Till stared at his grumpy counterpart as they entered the elevator. "What?" his reaction only served to confuse Flake even more when he just shook his head.  


They said little during their short adventure to the sidewalk outside. It was about one in the morning and it was still very warm in Chicago. Wasn't the place supposed to always have a wind of some sort? How else would it have ever gotten its name? So far the only thing it had was heat and humidity brought on by the lake bordering it.  


"You're moody tonight." Till commented, putting his hands in his pockets while they walked.  


"I'm not moody. I just would rather be asleep right now."  


"You're so good at making me feel appreciated." At first, Flake had no reply to that, maybe that was for the best though. Instead of a verbal answer, Flake reached out and slid Till's hand from his pocket, twining their fingers together. The desired effect of coaxing a smile from Till was not reached and now Flake realized he had to think of something else to do. Forget he was being moody, Till seemed a lot more like the moody one tonight.  


They continued their trek through the city, taxis laden with people heading home, tourists and club-goers alike speeding down the still mildly crowded roads. It reminded them both of the ungodly traffic earlier. If they ever came back to Chicago, fuck going out to eat after sound check; they were bringing food with them and just hanging around. Nearly being late to your own concert was just ridiculous. Another thing they noticed as they walked were the amount of looks they were getting. Unlike in some of the cities in America they had been to (and unlike those many years ago in Massachusetts) the stares weren't negative. The bulk of them were smiles and, believe it or not, everyone that wasn't smiling was just going about their regular business. For a nation that got a bad reputation for being intolerant, people seemed accepting in large part.  


"You think Waffle House is open?" Till asked, breaking Flake out of his reveries, he looked over in the direction Till was at the strange-shaped building with a great yellow sign. There were cars in the small parking lot adjacent to it and the lights on inside.  


"I'd say it is." Flake looked down to his watch at the time; 1:15. "I guess all Waffle Houses are open late." With no regard for traffic, Till tightened his grip on Flake's hand and they both took off across the street. "Till!" The skinny man fought to keep up with the vice on his hand all the while being jerked along to avoid oncoming taxis. Once reaching the other side, Flake opened his mouth to yell at him, but saw the big grin on Till's face and so chose not to give him a lashing. Maybe later when it wouldn't have been such a tragedy to wipe it off his face.  


"What?" Till inquired, still smiling.  


"Nothing. Let's just go in." And into the establishment they went, quickly getting a seat up at the bar area by the grills.  


"Can I get you two something to drink?" The harried night waitress asked with manufactured cheer.  


"Just coffee for me." Till said with a small smile. Flake shot him a look and answered "Water." Suddenly the waitress's mood seemed a bit less than synthetic. She hurried off to get them their drinks, passing a whisper to the other girl and grill. Discreetly, the other looked over her shoulder at them and went back to her work with more pep, unnoticed to the boys.  


The two large Germans mulled over their menus with looks of confusion, why couldn't Americans make food easy to understand? What did it matter if an angus patty melt was from Texas? Did that just mean it was fattier? And why did you have to give certain kinds of hash browns **eight** different names? Was it too much to just say "can I have my hashbrowns with tomatoes?", obviously so.  


"Do you understand much on this menu?" Flake whispered.  


"Not really..." Till intensely studied the menu for a bit longer, "Fuck it, I'm just getting waffles."  


"Sounds like the safe choice..." Their waitress returned and gracefully sat the drinks down, Flake's counterpart smiling more warmly to her than he enjoyed.  


"Do you know what you want or should I give you two a bit longer?" Till's warm smile spread before he answered with something as innocuous as "I think we both know, at least I do." his eyes flicked across her and Flake's mouth about fell open mid-sip of water.  


"What can I get you?" She responded sweetly.  


"I'll have two waffles with some sausage."  


"Okay, double waff, with sausage." She scribbled down on her pad, turning her attention to Flake who was still giving Till a venomous look, "What about you, sir?"  


"Waffle with eggs. Scrambled." He said flatly.  


"Okay." A few strokes of her pen over her pad and she reviewed their order for accuracy. They both confirmed. "I'll have these to you in a little bit." Tearing the order off, she passed it to the cook after writing something else down. The cook giggled, this time not escaping Flake's critical eye. He knew he shouldn't care, but it irritated him that the girl seemed to be reading too far into Till's "flirts".  


"I'm sitting right here you know." Flake mumbled to his partner, closing his menu and sticking it away where he had gotten it from.  


"And you know me." Till sipped his black coffee and made a small face at the burned taste it held.  


"Yes, I do."  


"So, is it really a problem?"  


"No, but is it still necessary?" Till shrugged in response, dropping some sugar into the mug in an attempt to cover up the burned flavor. "Why weren't you asleep anyway?" It was best not to dwell on the subject, Flake didn't want to be mad at Till tonight.  


"Just couldn't."  


"Don't think you're getting your insomnia back do you?"  


"It's not quite that severe. It's just been tonight."  


"Well, usually we do actually do something for birthdays...; Why didn't we again?"  


"Don't know. Paul wasn't interested--"  


"He's being a mope."  


"Richard was tired and I guess you were too." Till drank more of his coffee, still dissatisfied with it, so he picked up the salt-shaker and began to pour it in.  


"You're so gross."  


"Works better than sugar." He chuckled, picking up his spoon to stir the odd concoction. Now he was ready to taste it again while Flake just shook his head at the strangeness of it. Taking a sip his face screwed up making Flake snort with good humor.  


"I could have told you that was going to happen." Till offered the cup to his friend, "Hah, fat chance numbnuts." Having his cheek poked incessantly by a coffee mug was beginning to wear on the already prickly keyboardist's nerves. "Ach, fine." Moving Till's hand to just below his mouth, his singer smiled, tipping the cup so Flake could sip. "Yick. I don't even think Olli would like that and he acts like he has salt for blood." Till chuckled again and sat the mug down, getting more sweetener for the abomination that appeared to be coffee.  


"What do you think they're doing about now?" Till questioned.  


"Olli and Doom? Hm," Flake sniggered for a second.  


"What?"  


"Nothing, I just wonder if any of them ever used to ask these questions while we were out alone."  


"Probably." Till nodded, now staring down at the odious mixture before him.  


"Let's see...; It's Schneider and it's his birthday, so he's probably half-naked by now. Olli is trying his best to get him to put his clothes back on. Actually," Flake looked to his watch, "they're past that point. Olli is laughing his ass off while Schneider is hitting up a woman to borrow her clothes." Till made a comedic face that suggested thought.  


"What's the woman wearing?"  


"Something low-cut, lacy and purple." Till nodded vigorously, "A dress." more nodding to that. "He has probably already gotten her out of her shoes so he's wandering around the bar in black pumps two sizes too small for him." Flake laughed at the mental image drinking some of his water.  


"Sexy." Till sniggered, sipping what used to be his coffee.  


"How did that shit come out?"  


"Awful." Till offered the mug once more, Flake taking it without complaint. When he sipped it this time, Flake all out recoiled in disgust.  


"Never make this again."  


"Coffee was burnt, what was I to do?"  


"Man up?"  


"You would have liked that."  


"I usually do." They smiled at each other, elbows slightly touching on top of the counter, "Your turn, tell me what Olli is doing."  


"Mmn, like you said, trying to get Doom to get back into his clothes and give the woman her shoes back. He's apologizing profusely and annoying the other patrons who are laughing at the situation as much as he is."  


"Olli's boring isn't he?"  


"Not boring, just calm." Till drained the rest of the awful concoction and sat it out at the edge of the counter. "Eugh."  


"You make the most attractive noises." Flake rolled his eyes, their waitress coming back for another round with Till's coffee mug. Quickly the singer put his hand over the mouth of cup.  


"No thanks, miss." His smile from earlier returned and she gave him a knowing smirk. "Water please."  


"No problem. Here's your food by the way." Two waffles with butter on them were place in front of Till along with his side of sausage. Flake's was given to him a second later before she walked off to get Till's water. When she returned with his drink, she leaned on the counter in front of them while Till smothered his waffles in syrup. "So guys, where does the accent come from?" Flake didn't respond and kept cutting his waffle into many small pieces.  


" _Drei_ guesses." Till said as he chewed, it was something he never quite grew out of from the old days.  


"Hmmmm, lemme guess." She tapped her chin thoughtfully while Till continued to stuff his face. "Denmark?" The big man laughed and nearly choked on his food, Flake only just taking his first bite of plain waffle. "Are you...; Norwegian?" She did a hip-thrust into the counter, gaining Flake's negative attention. Till laughed again and swallowed. "Okay, enough dicking around. What brings two German guys here to a Waffle House at one in the morning?"  


"None of your business." Flake grumbled, catching the waitress off guard. At first she looked offended and bit hurt, then Till stepped in.  


"Ignore him, he's always like this." His companion looked less than pleased by this explanation and continued his slow eating, shooting them a side-long look. "Work."  


"Oh, what kind?"  


"Entertainment." Till's smirk was growing larger, he loved it when people didn't know who he was, it certainly made life (and eating peacefully) less complicated. The girl got a mischievous simper on her lips and leaned in until she was a few inches from Till's face.  


"What kind of _entertainment_?" Out of the corner of his eye, Till saw Flake's hand straining on his fork. Doing this was always infinitely amusing, Flake never cared at after parties so it was difficult to achieve this reaction, in public though?  


"Oh, _you know_." Till winked and gave her one of his charming grins.  


"I think I do." She grinned at him and gave his hand a quick touch. Till chuckled deep in his throat, giving her what Flake internally called "the sexiest face on Earth". The cheap-o fork was now bending in the other man's strong fingers.  


"Tell the cook to give me a piece of paper." Till said, patting her hand.  


"Sure!" The peppy girl stood up and walked over to her co-worker, taking the piece of paper she had readily out. "Here you go!"  


"What's your name?" Till asked the short-order cook. The girl turned around and giggled, making Flake shake his head, fans were everywhere.  


"Nina." Till quickly put his scrawl on the paper along with her name and a personal note about her cooking and how he liked it. He passed it to Flake and the keyboardist just stared at it.  


"Come on now." Till poked his lover in the cheek with the pen he had in hand. Flake looked up from his food to glare at him, but instead saw the pleading eyes of the cute, little short-order cook.  


"I loved the concert." She said in a pitiful voice making Flake sigh. He took the proffered pen and signed the paper in his ungainly, blocky letters.  


" _Da_." Flake pushed the paper away and it was quickly snatched up by the waitress and given to the cook who pocketed it immediately.  


"Thanks guys!" She gleefully said while she continued cleaning the grill and the various waffle-makers.  


"No problem." Till was finishing his first waffle, one of his sausage links disappeared at some point while signing. "Do you want one?" he asked their waitress.  


"Nah, no offense, but I honestly had no idea who you two were when you walked in."  


"Well, now you do."  


"And I think I like what I see." She bit her lip with a smile.  


"People usually do." Till flicked some of his hair out of his face. "Sure you don't want one?"  


"Lemme know when you're getting ready to leave. I'll let you enjoy your food for now."  


"Finally." Flake said rudely. The girl didn't take it harshly and started cleaning the dishes at the sink in front of them. A fleck or two of water sprayed onto Flake's glasses and his eating became somewhat strained.  


"If Reesh was there?" Till inserted to ease some of his tensions.  


"Hm?"  


"If Reesh was with Schneider and Olli."  


"Drunk or sober?"  


"Let's go for both."  


"If he was sober, numerous pictures would be taken. From many different angles. Especially if Schneider ever manages to get the girl to trade the rest of the clothes. If he does, there will be the obligatory picture up his skirt as he tries to dance on a table. Or if he simply falls and about breaks his neck in those heels he's wearing." The two girls were listening to their conversation and were giggling to themselves, especially the cook who had been holding in her laughter earlier.  


"Will these pictures ever see the light of day?" Till asked curiously, sucking on a sausage.  


"Not if Schneider finds out about them while hung-over. That will be the fourth phone of Richard's he's destroyed since we started touring." Flake looked up upon noticing Till's sucking on his food. "Do you have to do that?" Till bit the end off his suggestive munchy.  


" _Jawohl_!"  


" _Perversling_."  


"If he's drunk?"  


"He's hitting on him the whole time. Saying he's the most beautiful woman in the bar. If Olli does not intervene Richard gets a good solid fuck in the bathrooms." The two girls burst out laughing, the cook nearly burning herself in the process. Till just stared on in wonder, Flake usually didn't say things like that in public, much less around a fan. Granted, it had happened _once_ previously, but it was something to be kept between the band. Hopefully the two working would see this as merely his being funny and wouldn't put too much faith in it. It was Flake after all. " _Was_?"  


" _Nichts_...;" Flake shrugged, by now half-way through his waffle, eggs largely untouched save for some missing pieces and lots of added pepper.  


"I suppose it's a good thing really that Richard didn't want to join in."  


"Yeah. A very good thing."

They both finished their food in silence, setting the staff on edge a bit since they really hadn't shut up since arriving. It was also kind of disconcerting when neither of them looked when their waitress (Maria by the way) dropped each of their tickets off.  


"Maria," Till beckoned.  


"Yes?" She and Nina had been chatting at a table in the corner while they finished. "Ready to go?"  


"Think so." Nina had also gotten up with Maria and wandered back over to the counter to loiter with her friend. Meanwhile, Maria took a small notebook out of her back pocket and handed it to Till while she rang his ticket up. The big German gladly signed it along with a personal note before passing it to his counterpart. Once more Flake looked decidedly hesitant to sign, maybe even slightly disdainful. "Christian, just do it." At this particularly annoying prod, Flake grabbed the pen and put his mark down. Closing the book shortly with a thunk before tossing it back to Maria.  


"Thanks." Maria smiled wryly at Flake, taking Till's twenty from his hand.  


"Keep the change." The singer made sure to say.  


"I always enjoy donations." She giggled, giving Till a look before scribbling something down on the back of his receipt.  


"I bet you do." Flake grumbled, receiving an actual _glare_ from Till.  


"Like I said earlier, it's okay." Maria held out her hand for Flake's ticket, the man obliging her without word. Flake paid and gave her a small tip. "It was great having you guys in. If you're ever back in Chicago you know where to find the place."  


"I'm sure we'll be back before too long." Till said amiably, Maria leaning over the counter swiftly and stealthily to steal a kiss to his cheek. Nina's mouth dropped open from where she stood and by the way Flake's hands twitched he was about a millisecond away from backhanding her. "Have a nice night." Till grinned, pushing Flake's back towards the door.

Once outside, Flake rounded on Till, "What the fuck was that?!"  


"She kissed me, not the other way around."  


"I'm talking about the whole damn thing! I don't mind at after parties, it's expected, but _you_ wanted to spend time with _me_!" Flake lunged for the receipt in Till's hand and yanked it out of his grip.  


"Calm down." Till said with a light smile, Flake reading the note left on the back.  


" _Had fun messing with your boyfriend with you, come back some time and we can do it again. ~Maria_." Flake stared at the note for a good minute and a half, his feet seeming to be nailed to the spot he stood in. In the end, he pushed the note back into Till's hand.  


"Am I just fun to screw with?" Flake asked with mild humor in his voice, staring stupidly down at the cracked pavement of the parking lot.  


"Look who you're talking to."  


"Heh." The whippet thin man looked up, taking one of Till's hands and threading their fingers together again. With a small smile, he initiated a slow, sweet kiss. His other hand going up to run itself through Till's hair. There was a brief chuckle while Till encircled Flake's waist with his other arm and pulled them closer together, it was amazing just how well they fit with each other.  


"Can I ask what that was for?" Till inquired good-naturedly once they finished, their noses still touching, foreheads resting together.  


"Why the kiss?"  


"Yeah." Flake laughed and rested his chin on Till's shoulder glimpsing the two girls back in the Waffle House grinning from ear to ear at them (Nina's face more reminded him of someone who had died and gone to heaven though).  


"Honestly Till?" Flake shifted his head so he was staring his lover straight on. His friend tweaked his head to the side a little in confusion, the look staying in place even as Flake pressed his lips to the tip of his nose. "How could I not?"


End file.
